


A Proper Courtship

by charlotteschaos, cocohufflepuffs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Language, First Time, Fluff, Humor, Incomplete, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-02
Updated: 2007-02-08
Packaged: 2018-08-19 13:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 17,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8210435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteschaos/pseuds/charlotteschaos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocohufflepuffs/pseuds/cocohufflepuffs
Summary: Draco insists on a proper courtship, Harry can do that. Or so he thinks.  Set up in Drabbles between cocohufflepuffs and charlotteschaos.This one starts with cocohufflepuffs.





	1. Doing Things Properly

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Hex Files](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Hex_Files), which was closed for financial and health reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016.

Harry stood in the middle of the hallway, Daffodil in hand. Neville had said that people once used Daffodils as a message of rebuttal, in effect stating that they didn't share the same feelings as the recipient. For Harry's purposes, this made the bright yellow flower the perfect gift. He didn't agree with the recipient's feelings on this matter at all.

He held out the flower, undaunted by the gathering crowd. Harry knew there would be looks of anger, upset and incredulity, but he cared little. The only look that did matter was the one before him, wading in clear, grey pools. That look WAS incredulous, but this pleased Harry. He considered it a small victory to achieve a reaction that wasn't hostile. When the look persisted, he cleared his throat to explain.

"You said you would only accept a proper courting, so a proper courting it shall be." He pressed the Daffodil into cool, limp fingers and left with a determined smile. All were silent until he turned a corner, then murmurs erupted from everyone. This pleased Harry even more. It meant he had witnesses to his announcement of Intentions of Courtship. After all, this had to be proper.


	2. Doing Things Properly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by charlotteschaos  
> Image by cocohufflepuffs

For a breathless moment all Draco could do was stare at the daffodil. Seeming to realize he was on display he looked up and snarked, "I always knew the Golden Boy was barking. Now you all know. Crabbe. Goyle." With his snapped orders, his cronies fell into step and he fled public view. Only then did he allow himself a coy grin.

Once alone in the safety of his room, Malfoy cast a stilling charm to keep the flower fresh in the secret compartment in his trunk. Sliding his finger over the staid petals he whispered, "We shall see, Potter."


	3. Research is Afoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> image and words by cocohufflepuffs

Harry was nearly to the library when he realized that footsteps were rapidly approaching from behind. His heart raced as he glanced around. It was brown eyes, not grey, that met his anxiously. He was disappointed, but not surprised.

“Harry, what... was THAT?” Hermione asked in a tone that betrayed a war between curiosity and disbelief. He contemplated sarcasm, but then recalled why he had started all of this. He sighed deeply.

“Recently, I approached Draco with the hopes we could be together. He said he’d only accept a proper courting, so I’m giving him one.” The explanation was beginning to feel repetitious.

Confusion colored Hermione’s expression, but she held her tongue until they’d passed Madame Pince’s counter for the bookshelves.

“Wh-why?”

“Pride, perhaps? Or for attention. I suspect it’s mostly because I’m a boy and he doesn’t want a scandal.”

“Harry!” A warning cough from Pince reminded her to whisper. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Harry… I didn’t know you were gay. I support you fully, but… MALFOY? Are you serious?”

Harry gave an indulgent sigh as he scanned the bookshelves. He found the book he needed and sat down while Hermione went through her litany of All Things Rotten And Evil About Draco Malfoy. Harry calmly read while she exhausted herself on the subject. It took her a moment to notice this.

“Harry, are you even listening to me?”

“No, I’m researching.”

“Researching? YOU?”

Harry held up the book. It was about courting traditions. Hermione’s jaw fell.

“Oh my god, you ARE serious.”

The shock of him academically pursuing anything kept her silent for the next half hour. This suited Harry well. It gave him the opportunity to muse over other matters, such as when would be the proper time to start sending roses.


	4. Irresistibly Charming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> words by charlotteschaos

Everyone in the Slytherin Common Room was scandalized by the shocking events of Harry's proposed courtship of Draco. When the Slytherin Prince finally tripped his way down the stairs, he was amused to find Pansy standing on one of the side tables, screaming that her ex-boyfriend was most definitely not a homosexual. Crabbe and Goyle were huddled over Nott who, upon further inspection, appeared to be explaining to the lugs exactly how gay men had sex. Draco smacked his lips in distaste.

By the time the Slytherins realized that Draco had entered the room, the sliding panel already rolled closed and Malfoy found himself face to face with a livid freckled boy.

"What did you do to him?" railed Ron.

"I didn't do anything to him. He's mad!" denied Draco.

Ron had a few inches on Malfoy this was never more apparent than when the rival Gryffindor was bearing down on him. Draco really wished he'd summoned his toadies. "You hexed him, didn't you? Some sort of sex-hex! WHAT DID YOU DO?" he hissed, grabbing Draco by his silvery tie.

Draco turned his pale head, bracing for the impending blow. "I was... irresistibly charming and.... unbelievably attractive, I'M SORRY!"

Ron's balled up fist moved forward, but grimacing, he slowed and stalled just before punching Draco as realization dawned on him. If Draco knew anything about this, he'd be smug and gloating, not shrieking and trying to escape his cohorts.

"I'm also really wealthy," added Draco as he saw the fist withdrawing. Ron brought it up again and jabbed towards Draco a couple of times as if he couldn't quite give up the idea of pummeling Draco's face.

"You're a pillock and a berk and an ugly git and I don't know what Harry's on about, but... you really don't know either, do you?" asked Ron.

Draco blushed faintly. He knew exactly what led to this. Not that he was going to say. "No. I do not. Other than the reasons I listed, your friend has gone around the bend and beyond!" he shouted after the retreating redhead. "You're all mad, all you Gryffindors! Tell him to sod off with this poufter madness!" Draco called after him. Then he smirked. So Potter hadn't told his friends. He looked back at the door and then ahead to the hall and decided that the library might be quieter, so he headed that way.


	5. The Poetic Injustice Of It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by cocohufflepuffs

"I have to WHAT?" a voice rang out from the library stacks. This time it wasn't Hermione who earned Madame Pince's scowl.

"Neville's right, Harry," Hermione confirmed dryly. Harry appreciated that she had eventually come around enough to support his research efforts, despite her obvious misgivings, but he suspected she was finding this far more entertaining than appropriate. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was making fun of him. "Poetry has always played a prominent role in the courtly traditions. The suitor professes his feelings for his intended, often in a public setting. The Victorians were especially fond of love sonnets."

"Oh, hell!"

Neville bobbed his head enthusiastically, reminding Harry of an over-excited weather vane. "Yes, of course you want to tell Draco about your feelings! Gran used to tell stories of when she was young. The ladies always fell for the poetry. They wanted to hear their suitors' deepest feelings for them. Malfoy didn't take you seriously the first time. How are you going to convince him otherwise?"

Harry sighed, fisting tuffs of once almost-tamed hair. He had never been the sort to openly discuss his 'deepest feelings', even with his recent attitude adjustment. It was one thing to announce intentions, that didn't involved poetry. That didn't involve saying anything. Harry didn't want to explain his feelings, not to Hermione or Neville, or anyone else. He certainly didn't want to risk an explanation to Draco.

"Why poetry? I'm doing good with flowers! I can say lots with flowers."

"Including how you can't be bothered to tell him what he means to you?" Hermione asked bluntly.

Harry squirmed, feeling trapped. "Ok, fine! But does it have to be poetry? I hate the stuff."

"You could always serenade?" Neville offered.

"Oh bloody hell, NO!"

"Harry, it doesn't have to be the Bard's best. Simply concentrate on what you feel for... Malfoy... and put it into words."

"'Simply'? Right, Hermione. Sure, I'll just send him a little scented note, written with something like, 'Daffodils are yellow, my eyes are green. I fancy you greatly, so let's get obscene'. You think that states my feelings clearly enough?"

Neville giggled, then started with the realization of exactly what Harry had said. Hermione followed quickly with a shocked gasp. Harry caught on last, blushing furiously.

"Right, then... uhhh, I think I'll give Draco another flower tomorrow..." Harry hated poetry so very much.


	6. The Boy Who Buggered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by charlotteschaos

Aside Ron's assault, Draco roamed the halls unscathed. Or at least no one came up to him and offered to hit him, which was good as he was getting rather annoyed with the random sniggers that followed in his wake. This insanity had to end. He had to do _something_ before Potter started to serenade him. The real question was what he could do about it. He could confront Harry, but that would lead to an altercation, which typically didn't end well for Malfoy.

Alternately, he could try to pull Harry aside to talk. Although then he'd be alone with Potter, which came with its own set of... no he could not be _alone_ with Potter. The boy was off his nut. It wouldn't be prudent. _It would also be against the rules to be without a chaperone this early in courting._ Draco's eyes narrowed as he thought of protocol. Why was he even _thinking_ about the rules? Sure, it was sweet, in a rather twisted and scary way, but he could _not_ allow Potter to do this. It was... unsettling.

Unsettling? It was _wrong_ and... _bad_! He would've told Potter as much if he weren't terrified. Still, he'd have to-- Draco froze as he heard Harry's bellowing amongst the books, noticing suddenly he had, in fact, made it to the library. He took some satisfaction that the boy sounded distressed. Maybe he wouldn't have to ask Potter to stop. Perhaps this foolishness would end of its own accord. Malfoy ignored the twinge of disappointment in his chest at that prospect.

After a deliberate game of nonchalant weaving and wandering, he positioned himself on the other side a neighboring bookshelf and peered through the books, squinting to see the three Gryffindors whinging. 

_"'Daffodils are yellow, my eyes are green. I fancy you greatly, so let's get obscene'. You think that states my feelings clearly enough?"_

Draco gasped at Potter's words and raised his hand to his mouth. He didn't observe long enough to see how the poem embarrassed Harry. 

Obscene? Harry wanted to get _obscene_?!?! "Well, I never!" _And he hadn't._

_Great Merlin, The Boy Who Lived wants to bugger me_! Alarmed, Draco fled the library, his robes swirling spectacularly like a proper Potions master's protégé's should. Unfortunately, the swirling robes caught on several students' books and parchments, sending up quite a flurry of discord in the library, signaling his exit.


	7. In Hot Pursuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by cocohufflepuffs

Ron Weasley was a man of action, possessing a hot temper. Everyone knew this. What many forgot was that Ron was also a man of thought, with a keen mind for strategy. He knew the misconception was largely his fault. He gave into his anger too often. So, in an ironic twist, he was pleased that he hadn't pummeled Draco Malfoy. Usually, the opposite was more gratifying.

Ron sat on the second floor stairs, gazing across the entrance hall toward the dungeons. He couldn't get it. Malfoy hadn't placed a hex on Harry, so WHY was Harry _courting_ that git? Could someone else have done it? Ron sighed. Over the past two years, Harry hadn't exactly been making any new friends. In fact, he'd been steadily LOSING old ones. He'd been surly, brooding and occasionally, even combative. Ron had welcomed the moodiness when it was aimed at Slytherins, but Harry had also been abrasive with Gryffindors and others. There'd even been rows with Dumbledore. So the question of who'd want to hex Harry was a prickly one.

Ron couldn't completely fault Harry his moods, though he once did. Harry used to distance himself from him and Hermione, and got defensive when they tried to help. There'd been some arguments, but things were better now. Harry had suddenly made some sort of peace with himself, and Ron could see there wasn't anything enviable in being The Boy Who Lived. Harry was popular, yes, but that was a double-edged sword. Ron now saw how others' expectations were isolating Harry. Ron's own had added to the pile. And of course, there were the nutters. The attacks from Vol... Him were increasing in number and the nightmares were getting worse.

_Perhaps he's finally caved under the pressure._

Ron pondered what it'd take to break someone. Harry was extraordinarily stubborn. He'd suffered more in the last three years than most people their whole lives. Ron knew Harry still blamed himself for the deaths of Diggory, Sirius and the others. He knew Harry felt responsible for making Him corporeal. The revelations about the Prophecy and his parents weighed heavily on him. It'd be little wonder if Harry HAD reached the end of his  
tether.

_But topping off your mental meltdown by dating MALFOY??_

Ron was still pondering when a ruckus arose from further up the stairs. He just managed to jump aside when Malfoy came tearing down, looking like someone had set Fluffy after him. Ron caught wind of him muttering about someone trying to bugger him, then he heard a second commotion. Ron gaped as Harry came barreling down next, groaning, "Oh god, I can't believe he heard me!" Ron's eyes grew to the size of basilisk eggs.

 _Bloody hell! He HAS gone around the bend, AND BACK_!

Ron ran after Harry, hoping to stop him before he destroyed whatever virtue Malfoy had left. Not an easy task: Harry was possibly the fastest sprinter in the school. The dungeon stairs almost caused Ron to break his ankle, but a far more effective obstacle kept Harry from getting too much ahead. Ron didn't even have time to warn him as Harry collided into a black wall. A black wall of Snape. Limping and gulping down breaths in panic of the mortal and cardiovascular sort, Ron managed to catch up just as Harry and Snape pulled themselves off the floor.

"What the DEVIL is going on here, Potter?" Snape bellowed.

 _Oh, this'll get ugly right quickly_ , Ron grimaced. He hoped with all his heart that the Prophecy was true, because otherwise Snape was going to kill Harry.


	8. Harry Potter is a Pervert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by charlotteschaos

Heavy footfalls from the boys' descent to the dungeons sounded like the thundering of hooves to someone with Professor Snape's keen senses. Snape's head snapped up from his grading. He buried himself in work to avoid thinking about why Dumbledore's Golden Boy would be _courting_ his star pupil. It was too foul to contemplate. There were miscreants about, racing through the halls. Tormenting students sounded like an excellent way to vent.

At first, a pensive looking Ron Weasley was all that he saw. The idea of a Weasley having a thought in its puerile brain inspired a sardonic grin. Then, Malfoy skidded around the corner shadowed by the source of his panic, Harry. Folding his arms, Snape stepped in the wake of Malfoy's flight and right into Potter's path. 

"What the DEVIL is going on here, Potter?" Snape bellowed.

Draco halted at Snape's drawl. Wheeling around, he saw Harry glaring at Snape, with Ron backing him up. Draco's eyes darted around the hall; worried someone might catch him backtracking. That would be difficult to explain. It was thorny enough to self-rationalize.

Draco peered at Harry from behind Snape, grey eyes wide as he noticed for the first time just how _green_ Harry's eyes were. Surely that was because green stands out against a red flush from running. Draco masked his appreciative gaze with one of irritation. "Since _Potter_ has gone mute, allow me to elucidate. _Potter_ was making rhymes about _obscene_ things he wanted to do with me. I was trying to escape the _profanity_."

Snape glowered. "Mr. Potter, while I understand that you have chosen to express your desire for... _alternative lifestyles_... here at Hogwarts, let me assure you that no one in _my house_ enjoys that particular... peccadillo. Particularly Mr. Malfoy, whose future is in betrothal, not in dating... _boys_."

Draco paled and fell eerily silent. While he _had_ been lined up to be betrothed, his father's imprisonment had dried up of his options. As for peccadilloes and dating boys... well, he hadn't exactly thrown away that daffodil, had he?

"Isn't that right, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape angled his body to include Draco, only to reveal a rather uncertain-looking young man.

Draco's eyes cast over Snape, then Ron, and finally he stared at Harry. He whispered, "I have to go." Turning on his heel, Draco started towards the dorms.

Unsettled, Snape spat, "Fifty points from Gryffindor for... being... _perverted_!"


	9. Let Me Explain...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by cocohufflepuffs

Harry was pissed off. Rightly, thoroughly, pissed off. He glared up at the thin man that somehow managed to be a formidable roadblock. He’d never gotten along with Snape, not once since they first met. The animosity had only grown with time, Harry’s fifth year being the pinnacle breaking point in their strained relations. Snape’s part in the whole Occulmency debacle had caused too much damage. Harry didn't deny his own role in the undoing: he had unwisely crossed boundaries and neglected his training. Snape’s refusal to train Harry, however, had left him unguarded against Voldemort. Furthermore, Harry later discovered that what training he _had_ received was substandard. The culmination of both their inadequacies had cost Sirius his life, as well as others to come. Harry couldn’t forgive either of them for that.

The final blow came when Snape began using Harry’s guilt to berate him even more foully than before. While Harry did feel deeply responsible, what infuriated him was the manner in which Snape carried on. He acted like he’d been dealt a severe injustice, like losing someone he regarded as a hero. Anyone familiar with Snape's history could see how hypocritical that was. If he felt any real sense of injustice, it was probably because Snape had wanted the opportunity to kill Sirius himself.

So, being called a _pervert_ by a man he knew to be a right bastard, simply because Harry fancied someone, was simply too rich. Harry hadn't needed Divinations to predict Snape's displeasure with the courtship. Snape, however, could kindly go to hell. Harry wanted to be with Draco. He... wanted him. Harry was through with letting bastards take away his dreams. It was time to take back what was his.

Looking past the greasy git, Harry noticed Draco’s retreat. Another wave of desperation flooded through him. He needed to explain what really happened in the library. Draco had completely flipped his nut, and Harry couldn't bear the thought of being shot down so soon into the courtship. A mistake like this could render it impossible for Harry to win over the pale, icy boy. Harry pushed aside his anger and darted around the Potions Master. A brief dash caught him up to the departing boy.

"Draco, wait, please!

Harry grasped at Draco's elbow, only to find himself suddenly peering into the signature Malfoy Glare. Harry backed up slightly. "Hold up! I'm not going to hurt you!"

"Oh, they say it always hurts the first time, Potter, but I'm sure you'd be _gentle_ ," Draco sneered.

"Wha-? God, no! This isn't about that! Well, it is, but... I just, want to talk, to... explain." Harry tried to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. Now that he had Draco's undivided attention, all the urgency that had fueled him was gone. The weight of those frosty eyes was heavy. "Look... Draco? I know what you heard sounded... bad, but you're mistaken. I was discussing..." Harry nearly had to spit the word out, "...poetry... with Hermione and Neville, and I made a joke. That was sarcasm, Draco, not sentiment."

As Harry explained, however, a small voice niggled at the back of his mind. It wasn't really a joke, not at the core. Harry wasn't interested in being _obscene_ , per se, but when he'd told both Malfoy and Hermione that he wished to be with the pale Slytherin boy, he had meant it in all possible meanings. Harry cursed himself for dwelling to this, feeling himself growing steadily pinker. Yet, as much as he’d like to deny the truth, he felt he had to be honest to some degree, while he still had the chance. Awkwardly, he pushed on with his explanation.

"N-Not like THAT. I wouldn't dream of sending you that. Trust me, you needn't worrying about receiving poetry of that sort from me." Or any sort, if he was lucky. Feeling a little emboldened by Draco's continued silence, Harry dared to be a bit flirtatious. "Besides, you wished to be courted. I intend to win you over. _Properly_." A sudden, maddening urge possessed him to stroke Draco's cheek, but Harry kept himself in check. He studied Draco's face instead, looking for any sign of relent.


	10. No. More. Poetry. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art by cocohufflepuffs

When Harry grabbed Malfoy by the elbow, he could think of little other than whirling around and slamming his fist into the Golden Boy's jaw as repayment for the humiliation of his skittering retreat. But the other boy's cowering and his stuttering reception of Draco's snark ended up being satisfying enough. For now.

He continued to sneer through the apology, but the blushing made Harry's wayward thoughts transparent, which caused a faint blush over Draco's cheek. He was appalled to find that unlike the reality of Pansy's forcible kiss at the end of fifth year, the idea of snogging Potter didn't make him feel ill. Draco didn't want to have this revelation. And if he was going to have it, he didn't want it to be in the hallway. With witnesses. His fist clenched and once again the idea of smacking Potter became highly appealing.

Then he was speaking again and Draco just stared at him, eyes narrowed, trying to suss whether this was just one elaborate joke or if Potter was sincere.

_Merlin, he's adorable stuttering like this_. No. Wrong. He's filth. He's a canker sore on the heel of humanity. He's a cretinous mass of... was Potter _flirting_? The rush of fury that had been coursing through his veins halted, leaving Draco feeling edgy and confused.

For a mad moment he looked for all the world like he was going to strike Harry and then finally he said through his teeth. "No. Poetry. From. You. Ever. Again." He took a long, steadying breath and folded his arms. "Given the example of the sort of poetry you and your lack-wit friends come up with, I will not have my name or person insulted by your blasphemy to the written word. You may _recite_ me something. Or, if you have the talent... and _only if you have the talent_ , you may serenade me."

His hand flew up into Harry's face, index finger almost poking his nose and snarled, "But if you so much as foul up _one word_ or miss even _one note_ , so help me...." Well, he didn't exactly have anything tangible to threaten Harry with other than his displeasure, so he let it hang. "Furthermore, any contact you have with me from this point forward must be in the company of _designated chaperones_. I'll not have my reputation besmirched by rumors of snogging in broom closets because of your reckless running about," he said, fluttering his hand through the air, presumably to indicate recklessness.

He glared over at Ron and added, "Weasley barely counts as a _student_ so you'll have to do better than _him_ next time." His eyes darted back to Snape, whose sour expression radiated disapproval. So he turned back to Harry, looking a bit paler than usual. "Now, Potter, I've had a trying day and I'm going to my room."

Spinning on his heel, Draco took a few steps before he stopped to continue his rant cheekily. "And Potter? No limericks."

"Draco, wait!" Harry closed the distance between them and gave Draco a shy, nervous grin.

Draco was guarded, but waited for Harry to speak.

"Sorry... I just wanted to, thank you."

Folding his arms, Draco protested, "I'm not..."

Harry continued, cutting him off. "For giving me this opportunity. It... means a lot to me." Harry was tempted to say " _You_ mean a lot to me," but admitting that aloud made him nervous.

It was hard not to get sucked in by the sweet sincerity. He rolled his eyes and smirked. "You're a sap, Potter." Draco turned to retreat again, but peered over his shoulder at Harry's hopeful smile and how steadfastly he watched him with glittering eyes.

Draco's chest constricted at Harry's expression. He turned away and stalked towards Slytherin House with determination.

Snape waited until Draco was out of earshot before he bore down on Potter. Glowering at him, he growled, "Mr Potter, you will not recite, deliver, nor perform any manner of song or poetry to Mr Malfoy. You will drop this lunacy at once or you will find yourself so deep in detentions that you will _still_ be serving them when you are the headmaster's age. Do I make myself clear?"


	11. And So It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by cocohufflepuffs

Harry barely acknowledged Snape's presence, a giddy haze leaving the world around him pleasantly muted. He stared at the spot where Draco had been, muttering a faint, "Yes, Sir" even while contrary thoughts took shape in his head.

_Draco is pale elegance..._

He was vaguely aware of being dismissed, then gently tugged at the elbow by Ron. He assumed Ron was inquiring about his well-being on the way back to Gryffindor tower, but Harry was too distracted to hear what was said.

_... delicate yet bold. **Beautiful**. _

An image began forming in his mind. It was of something that in his heart felt like Draco, but to his eyes looked like...

They’d just reached the Fat Lady's portrait when Harry halted so suddenly that Ron tripped over his twisted ankle. Harry caught him before he reached the floor. "Oh God, s-sorry, Ron! Ummm, here, maybe you should rest a moment... Yes, hold onto that. I, uh, have to go somewhere quickly, sorry!" 

Before Ron could respond, Harry dashed off for the Library. Lucky for him, Madame Pince seemed to still be occupied with recovery efforts from his and Draco's earlier departure. The scrawny witch had her back to the main doors as she fussed with a map almost too large to handle. Harry darted quietly past her on the balls of his feet. He didn't stop running until he found the table where Hermione and Neville still sat. They seemed shocked to see him back so soon.

"How-how'd it go?" Neville asked while holding his breath, looking very much like his pet frog to Harry.

Harry grabbed the book he’d been reading earlier, leafing through it so recklessly that Hermione made a tutting noise. Suddenly, the image from his thoughts appeared before him on paper. He grinned as he finally addressed Neville.

" _Hippeastrum._ "

Neville's looked momentarily astonished. "Impressive... but a bit to manage. Needs lots of attention, that one. Which variety?"

Harry snorted. "Yes, well, that'd be fitting, wouldn't it? I was thinking of a white one."

"How about an Aphrodite?"

Harry consulted another book. "No, too gaudy." His eyes scanned restlessly, then froze and widened. "Yes, that’s it! Picotee."

Neville balked. "Those are mighty expensive, Harry. They're hard to find as well. You'll have to order that specially."

Harry pondered the logistics, taking into consideration the time of day and the address on the book he held. He could do this, if he hurried. He nodded resolutely to his friends and took off in a dash again. He barely registered Pince's detention threats as he sprinted for the Owlery, catalogue in hand. There, he prepared his parcel as he whistled for Hedwig. She came down from a perch other than her usual. Curious, Harry retraced her path, only to find himself being eyed suspiciously by a rather severe-looking Great Grey owl. The thing was huge, and oddly familiar.

Hedwig fluttered around Harry before settling on his shoulder. He had the impression she was trying to distract him, so he looked again at the other owl. Suddenly, he realized where he’d seen it before. It often made a show of delivering packages to the Slytherin table, usually carrying expensive-looking boxes of candy. That was Draco's owl. With a smirk he turned to Hedwig, who appeared to find something behind her far more interesting and had turned her head to an impossible degree. He laughed at the efficiency that rumours spread at Hogwarts: even the owls were gossips.

"It’s ok, Hedwig. It’s just as shocking to me." Hedwig swiveled her head back around and nipped lightly on his ear. "Yes, you too. Please make haste with this. It needs to get to the shop as soon as possible. I want him to get it tomorrow with the post."

There was a hoot of surprise from above, then Draco’s owl followed Hedwig out the window. Apparently, there was a chaperone for every occasion.

 

The next morning, there were three faces which wore no looks of surprise when Malfoy opened his post (delivered by two owls) and out sprung a large bouquet of Amaryllis flowers, their throats green and petals white trimmed in red. One face in particular was just as red, but it smiled brightly nonetheless.


	12. Flowers Amongst Snakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by charlotteschaos

Draco wasn't surprised by the first package he received from the family Eagle owl. The sweets from his mother were fresh and on time. He peered into the package, making sure he'd gotten precisely what he'd asked for. The second package that came via a Snowy owl followed by his Grey owl that he'd been given to handle his courtship mail, surprised him. 

Dropped beside his plate, Draco eyed it suspiciously. A Snowy owl could only mean one sender. Potter knew nothing of discretion, did he? His delicate fingers fiddled with the binding until the dazzling flora sprang out. In spite of himself, he smiled at the beauty of the red-tinged edges and the simple grace of the petals. _Amaryllis represents beauty. Potter thinks I'm beautiful_? 

His smile was as fragile as it was grudgingly given. He was just starting to search out the sender across the Hall when he was yanked to his feet from behind.

Draco shot Goyle a look, and the boy grabbed the flowers off of the table and tucked them into his robes to keep them safe. 

Pansy glared first at Draco, then at Goyle. Finally, she settled her rancor across the room at Potter.

\--

"Mr Malfoy you are going to give that daffodil back!" Snape shoved the boy by the shoulder into the chair before his desk. 

"I can't." Draco tried to get comfortable.

"Why not?" Snape sat and glared at his favorite pupil.

 _Because I don't want to._ "I lost it."

"You _lost_ the daffodil."

"I mean... I threw it away!" Draco made a wild gesture to indicate a forceful throwing away of said foliage.

Snape's wasn't buying his performance. 

"I'm sure you know, as we all know, that much rides on you continuing the Malfoy name. You are the sole heir and not only are great things expected of you, _a baby_ is expected of you. You do not have time for these... shenanigans..."

 

...same dress, new day (or at least _later_ that day, only in his room.) Snape's words coming out of Pansy's mouth, Draco wondered if they'd rehearsed. Draco waved her off. "Yes, I am aware. I just threw the flower away, all right? I don't have it."

"Give him another one back." Pansy was sprawled out over Goyle's bed in a manner that Draco assumed was meant to be enticing, but he found repugnant. She wasn't the minx she thought she was.

"Pfft. I will not be nancing about the school handing plant-life to Potter to please _you_. Besides, he'd just give me another one. Probably another bushel if this morning's gift was any indication." Draco looked pensive. He wondered where Goyle had stashed the bouquet. "If I'm giving him _any flowers at all_ it would be an African marigold."

Pansy tittered. "Do you _really_ think he is vulgar? Or is it that you're just _that prude_?"

Her attempts to be kittenish were turning Draco's stomach. He flashed her a disapproving look to ward her off. "I'm not prude."

"You never even kissed me." Pansy pouted and tried again by leaning forward to let her half-unbuttoned shirt open enough to reveal her candy pink bra.

Draco averted his eyes. "We kissed."

"I kissed _you_. As I recall, you broke up with me just after. Maybe you _are a queer_."

"Maybe I just don't like having your tongue in my mouth any more than I want your flabby tits shoved in my face," Draco huffed as he hopped up from his bed, determined to get away from her goading. He surreptitiously peered around Goyle's belongings hoping for a flash of his flowers.

"Merlin's balls, you _are a queer_!" Pansy slunk off of Goyle's bed in a predatory move, ready to pounce on Draco, whose attentions were elsewhere. 

"I just don't like _you_!" His body tensed at her proximity. 

"Prove it."

Her Cheshire-cat grin irked him. "I will not be goaded by the likes of _you_. Get off of me!" Draco's hands clamped her shoulders and he shoved her back. "It's not that I don't like girls, Pansy. It's just that I only like the _pretty ones_." Draco gloated at the way her eyes glistened with upset.

"Faggot. I'm telling everyone that you are a homosexual!" The tears stinging her eyes overran her lids and down her face.

"I'm sure that will make Potter's day. Why don't you notify him first?" He folded his arms and leaned against his wardrobe looking smug.

On her way out, Pansy grabbed one of Draco's costly animated Seeker figurines and threw it at his head. Draco mocked her frustration.

\--

Dashing from Slytherin's dungeons up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, Pansy burned with rage. But unlike many who didn't have a focal point for their fury, Pansy's wrath was keyed on one person: _Potter_.


	13. Life... Was... Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author: cocohufflepuffs

  
Author's notes: Author: cocohufflepuffs  


* * *

Life was good.

A rare occasion, if you were one Harry Potter. Usually, inane, improbable, and slightly mad things tended to happen if you were. Fights with family members ended with them literally inflating like blimps. Sporting accidents included 10+ meter drops from brooms. No school year was complete without at least one professor trying to do you in. That sort of thing was standard.

No, Harry was having a rather atypical day: everything was going his way. He woke up refreshed, his sleep unbothered by dreams or migraines despite forgetting to take his usual battery of potions, basking in the afterglow of courtship-planning. There was a spring in his step that had nothing to do with Quidditch. He'd gotten up earlier than usual to take extra care with his morning affairs, and for the second day running it had paid off. His hair was lying relatively flat, his uniform remained neat, and even his glasses and wand were well-polished. He left for breakfast early, surprisingly cheerful and confident. It was wonderfully surreal.

Something had to give. His name was still Harry Potter, after all.

Breakfast was like a solicited torturing. Harry couldn't wait to see Draco's reaction to his gift, yet his nerves had him over-sensitive and staging a hunger strike. When Draco finally did open his package, he studied every detail of the blonde’s expression, soaking up the shock, the incredulity, the... Yes, pleasure! The sight of that timid smile was worth any number of migraine potions.

"Amaryllis flowers?" Hermione frowned in reaction, turning back to Harry. "And... potted."

Harry flushed at the joke he’d made. Leave it Hermione to pick up on a detail he thought no one would get. Thankfully, before he could respond, Ron spoke up for the first time since yesterday. He'd been strangely contemplative ever since the incident with Snape.

"Have you found a chaperon yet?"

"I’ve thought about it some, and if Hermione would do me the honor, I’d appreciate it greatly."

Hermione’s eyes got rather large before shifting away from him quickly. She cleared her throat. "That’s very sweet of you, Harry, but I have to decline."

Harry stared stupidly, temporarily at a loss for words. He’d assumed she would help after yesterday. Though disappointed, he decided not to let it ruin his mood. There'd been enough angst last year, wasting valuable time and energy he couldn’t afford to lose.

"That's ok. There’s plenty of time to ask someone else. Knowing Draco, I’ll probably need more gifts before I’m granted the privilege of his company."

Her responding smile was rather constricted.

Deciding that Draco-watching would be more rewarding, Harry glanced back to the Slytherin table, only to find it devoid a certain platinum-blond head. He caught the flicker of robes by the Hall’s entrance, just in time to see Snape ushering someone out. The professor halted his exit to send a glare Harry’s way. The message was clear: You’re next, Potter. Harry sighed, losing more enthusiasm for the day.

 

While Harry no longer had Potions, this didn’t mean his day was Slytherin-free. He still attended Care of Magical Creatures, where he had to deal with two frustrating situations: the Slytherins were over their shock from the courtship, making their opinions widely known, and Draco was absent the entire class. The taunts Harry could weather. It was concern for the blond that had him distracted. Was Snape keeping him back? Or was Draco embarrassed and purposefully avoiding him? Harry tried sounding out possibilities with Ron and Hermione, but neither was keen to talk to him. Ron seemed out of sorts still and Hermione’s demeanor remained rather stilted. Harry sighed in frustration, knowing they’d have to come around on their own.

His Slytherin-free classes weren’t much better. There was a wide range of reactions from the other houses, from distain to day-dreaming. The Ravenclaws mostly took to speculating what boded for the Wizarding World now that its savior was gay, and the Hufflepuffs seemed to find it all... adorable. There were exceptions, of course. Justin Finch-Fletchley was inordinately defensive. Luna Lovegood was inappropriately curious. It was as if Harry had used a time-turner to go back to fourth year. All he needed now was for Rita Skeeter to pop up asking if he thought his parents would have approved of his choice in lifestyles.

Between classes, Harry’s time was chiefly devoted to evading unpleasantries like the Creevey brothers, Snape, and the odd flock of giggling girls or sniggering boys. He skipped lunch in lieu of research, which earned him Pince’s constant vigilance. He wasn’t sure if she was watching to make sure he behaved, or to catch what he was reading. Dinner he delayed until after training, needing to purge his frustration. It did improve his mood some, but he was far from feeling the levity he’d experienced that morning.

That morning?

It seemed so long ago that it might as well have been a year. It wasn’t that he was unused to the melodrama of his Fame and Misfortune, but rather he hadn’t felt that... hopeful... in a long time. Promise had been in the air when he’d awoken, a chance to create a fork in the path his life was taking. He was struggling to take control of events around him, and this courtship was as much about snubbing Voldemort as it was about winning Draco’s affections.

Harry brooded over the day’s events while on his way up from the kitchens, where he’d nicked a snack and laid plans with Dobby regarding his next gift. He was thankful that this schizophrenic day was over, though he dreaded how his sleep might be affected. Coming down the Gryffindor corridor, he spotted someone leaning against the wall next to the Fat Lady’s portrait. It was Pansy Parkinson, looking like something horribly irritating had just been shoved up her knickers.

He really should have known he wouldn’t get off this easily. This was just another day for one Harry Potter.

Life... was decidedly evil.


	14. Much Ado About Plants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By charlotteschaos

"Goyle!" It shouldn't have been so surprising that the fragile flowers were crushed under Goyle's robes, particularly since they'd been kept under them all day. Yet, Draco found himself glaring at the mangled fronds in consternation. "Fix them!"

"Uhh...err... Reparo?" 

Draco yanked the flowers out of the way just in time to keep them from being further ruined by one of Goyle's clumsy spells. "Reparo? On a _plant_?"

"I don't know, Sir." Goyle was flustered; he thought he'd done a good job of keeping the flowers concealed. No one knew he had them. He was proud of himself for not fussing with them even when the pot dug into his side. "I don't know about plants."

"You don't know about _anything_ , you cretin." He took a calming breath. It wasn't Goyle's fault, but he didn't have anyone else to lash out at. The damage to his Amaryllis plant was far more bothersome than it should have been. "Pfft. I'm going to see Sprout." Draco swept out of Slytherin, plant tucked under his robe.

\--

Harry eyed Pansy cagily. "Parkinson... what can I do for you this evening?"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd stop making such a spectacle of yourself with _my boyfriend_. It's really pathetic. He's _not gay_." In an attempt to appear superior, Pansy tilted her pug nose into the air. She wanted to believe Draco wasn't gay, but his actions frustrated her efforts. Potter had to go. And now.

"Last I heard, Draco wasn't calling himself 'your boyfriend.'" Harry eyed her. "As for being gay, he's a big boy; he can decide his own preferences. He's chosen to let me court him, so there's no such spectacle going on here. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got homework to attend to." Harry shifted over more towards the Fat Lady's portrait, making sure not to turn his back on Pansy. 

Harry's dismissive response to her claim irked Pansy. In her estimation, she and Draco were merely taking a break. Lucius's imprisonment was a sign that they were destined to be together. After all, what other girl would have him now? His blood was pure but the Malfoy name was tarnished. As far as Pansy was concerned, Draco had no other reasonable option. He was hers. It was just a matter of time. Never in her wildest nightmares did she think that the Boy Who Lived would attempt to steal him. 

"He's letting you court him because he's _afraid of you_. You realize that to the rest of the school, you appear insane. Particularly after that dramatic display last year: you remember, don't you? And do you also remember how quiet Draco got around you after your speech and the wand-less magic. I heard you almost _killed him_."

Harry glared with incredulity. "And you realize to everyone else, you appear desperate? If I've managed to intimidate him into this courtship, then he's a better actor than I give him credit for. He seemed sardonic more than shaken. I know the courtship rules, Parkinson: as the intended, Draco has the power to refuse me at any point. I am the supplicant. I really don't have much say over his acceptance of me. Draco's smart. He knows better than to accept an engagement such as this lightly. He won't let intimidation be a factor. He has the Malfoy pride, after all." Harry smirked. "You'd do well to remember that." For the second time, Harry attempted to leave.

He was shortly interrupted by the bustle of Colin Creevey bounding towards them, clutching his camera to his chest. He was about to give his password to the Fat Lady when he caught sight of Harry. He jogged to his hero to spill his news. "Harry! You wouldn't believe the picture I just took!" he enthused. "Draco Malfoy was coming out of Greenhouse three with your flowers! It's good I got the picture fast! I think I blinded him with my flash, because his hex barely missed me! I got a picture! Do you want to see?"

Poor Colin recognised the company Harry was keeping far too late. 

"Furunculous!" Pansy's malicious smirk turned victorious at Colin's pained shrieks as bulbous boils broke out over his skin.


	15. Echoes of Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by cocohufflepuffs

"PARKINSON!"

Without a second thought, Harry's instincts switched to dueling mode. His wand aimed for his opponent's weak points as he took a defensive position before his comrade. His anger instantly released a pool of magic to be used as necessary. His eyes narrowed dangerously, traveling up his opponent's torso for the head, seeing-

Pansy.

Harry froze. This wasn't training. This wasn't battle either. Currently, Pansy Parkinson wasn't a Death Eater. She was a Slytherin and a prefect, yes, but instead of being ruthless and evil, her face was pale as she slumped against a wall, her wand forgotten. She was just a petty, jealous, _scared_ girl. She wasn't the real enemy.

 _"He's letting you court him because he's afraid of you."_

God, he hated what this war was doing to him. Draco had every right to be afraid.

Harry's posture eased some, but he didn't lower his wand. Before either could suss out what to do, or what exactly had happened, an echo caught their attention. It sounded like McGonagall's voice and footsteps. Pansy quickly stowed her wand up her sleeve and glared before exiting in the opposite direction. It took Harry a moment longer to stiffly retract his arm.

Colin and Harry anxiously awaited the arrival of their Head of House. Harry had hoped to atone for his behaviour last year, however if McGonagall hadn't heard the commotion then one look would give them away. As his record stood, it wouldn't matter that Pansy had started the row. With the way it'd almost ended, Harry wasn't sure he didn't deserve punishment.

Just when he'd begun to wonder what was taking McGonagall so long, Harry realized that he no longer heard her approach. He looked at Colin cautiously, his curiosity mirrored in the younger boy's face. A moment longer and the silence persisted. Harry was about to investigate when Colin let out a disconsolate moan. He was looking at the angry boils on his hand.

"Come, let's get you to Pomfrey while our luck holds out," Harry suggested humourlessly.

 

_"He's afraid of you."_

The words taunted Harry long after the trip to the hospital ward. He was now sitting in the room that'd once housed the Mirror of Erised, weighing the truth of Pansy's words. It was a prospect he'd never considered. In all their years of rivalry, the Slytherin had never shown any trepidation about harassing him. Last year, however, Harry'd been no better than a lunatic. Voldemort's games had worn down his resilience, and then he'd had an epiphany that cost him the last of his reason. His tempers had grown fiercer and his moods darker. He couldn't hold himself together at the time. And in the midst of all that had been Draco, merrily pushing every button he could. One day he found the wrong one.

_"YOU THINK THIS IS SOME GREAT GAME, DON'T YOU MALFOY!? One more STUPID PRANK and you'll finally beat me, right? WELL, YOU'RE WRONG! You want to beat me? STEP IN LINE! It's only 5 meters long! You'll have to wait, though, because Voldemort got there first, AND HE'LL **END IT** ONE WAY OR ANOTHER! You're just a fly riding his cloak, waiting for a SCRAP OF SHIT!_

_And what will you do once I'm beaten and gone? BECAUSE IT WON'T BE A MATTER OF ME LOSING HOUSE POINTS OR GETTING DETENTION: I'LL BE **DEAD** , MALFOY! Hmmmmm? Let me make a suggestion: run. Run very fast and very far, because IT WON'T BE ENOUGH! He WON'T stop with one scrawny boy. He'll destroy the Muggle world, and then turn on the Wizarding World. HE. IS. DESTRUCTION! HE. IS. MADNESS! It won't matter if you're Muggle, Half-Blood or pure-blooded. HE DOESN'T CARE NOW! Your father's imprisonment proves this! He's just a **tool** to Voldemort, and a shoddy one at that! You want to be like your father, Draco? Well, BULLY FOR YOU that Voldemort agrees! He thinks you're just as expendable! He'll replace you for your father like he'd replace a defective cauldron. Then he'll USE YOU until you **break** too!_

_Voldemort isn't playing GAMES, Draco. He has his own agenda, and he won't quit until it's COMPLETED! So if you really want to see me beaten, just wait a little longer. You'll get a front-row seat."_

That particular rant ended with an explosion of wandless magic. Literally. Draco had sprung another prank on him, cornering him in the courtyard. Harry himself hadn't been aware of what was going on, focused entirely on Draco. Ron later told him that a tempest had risen, taking out every window facing the courtyard and stripping the plants of their foliage. In the middle of it had been Harry and Draco, surrounded by a vortex of light, colour and sound. Hermione said it was almost beautiful, in an awful sort of way.

Harry wanted to smack himself several times very hard. Of course an experience like that would affect someone! Indeed, he _couldn't_ recall Draco ever bothering him again. Harry was regretful about the measures he'd taken, but truthfully he wasn't sorry about scaring everyone. They were at _war_ with a powerfully _evil_ wizard. This wasn't another Triwizarding competition. Of course, there were consequences. The thought of being placated out of fear bothered Harry, but he'd known from the start that he'd have to win Draco's trust, given their history. This just make things harder. Given his options, however, it wasn't like the challenge wouldn't do him good.

Besides, if he succeeded he might know a little peace before the storm. The thought gave him a bit of hope in an otherwise dreary day.

\---

Draco Malfoy was just leaving the Slytherin common room for prefect rounds when a voice interrupted.

"You should keep a closer eye on your affairs. Flowers are replaceable. Jealous ex-girlfriends do damage. I might not divert her again."

From the dungeon shadows Millicent Bullstrode appeared. 

"Incidentally, you'll want to avoid Pansy. She's in a bit of a snit."


	16. Rounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by charlotteschaos

Draco started at the disembodied voice that rang out from the shadows before the sliding panel that led to the Slytherin dorms. Things jumping out at him still startled him. He should be used to it by now. If it wasn't rambunctious first years, it was Peeves or other annoying ghosts. 

It wasn't a ghost. It was Bullstrode. He raised his brows and waited for her to explain.

"Your carelessness with Pansy this afternoon inspired her to go after Potter." Not that she cared that Pansy was hurt. She hadn't much use for the _princess_ since... well, as far as she was concerned, it was karma that Draco strung her along. Provided that's what he was doing. Millicent wasn't sure he truly was. Pansy was creative with her rationalizations. Millicent knew this from experience. 

"I'm not careless. She's delusional. What am I supposed to do? I've never given her the impression that she's been anything in particular to me." He added, "I do my best to avoid her. Is Potter... all right?" He rolled his eyes at such his asinine question. Of course Potter was all right. What was Pansy going to do to him that Voldemort couldn't?

Millicent eyed Malfoy back, unimpressed with his defensiveness. "You know you have let her say things and believe things when it's been to your advantage. I'll grant that you've been clearer in the past few months, but you know you toyed with her emotions before."

Draco opened his mouth to defend himself, but Millicent held her hand up to stop him. "Potter is fine. Colin Creevey, however, is going to be spending time at Madam Pomfrey's. Stop laughing!"

He bit his curled index finger to try to stop snickering at Creevey's misfortune. 

She shook her head. He was a prat, but she liked him anyway. Or maybe it was because amongst he treated her like she wanted to be treated, like a boy. Most of Slytherin could tell by the fact that she wore the boy's uniform and her general demeanor that she had eschewed her girlishness. Though she'd never stated it, it was clear that she was a lesbian. Most of the students congratulated themselves on being broad-minded with their faux tolerance. Not Malfoy. He ordered her around with Crabbe and Goyle and called her a dyke. She enjoyed his lack of pretense. "Pansy could've hurt Potter. I thought you should know."

"I don't control Parkinson or Potter. I refuse to take responsibility for the actions of others. Now, if you don't mind, I have rounds to make." Not giving her a chance to reply, he turned on his heel to leave again, ignoring her calls of "you're welcome."

He made a beeline for Gryffindor, navigating the moving stairways with practiced ability from years of Prefect duty. What he was expecting, he didn't know. The Fat Lady was there, humming to herself until she caught sight of Draco lurking. "I cannot let you in without a password."

"I'm not trying to get in."

She tittered, amused by his agitation. "Then why are you here, Mr Malfoy?"

"I heard some Gryffindors were plotting to sneak out." Draco's expression dared her to refute him.

"Mr Potter wasn't harmed."

Draco looked relieved. "Good on him. Why should I care?"

She gave him an indulgent smile, humoring a small child. You didn't spend centuries watching teens without cluing into what made them tick. "Of course not, dear. Don't mind me, I'm just a silly portrait. If you're going to stick around, I could entertain you with a song."

"That's really not necessary." Draco backed up, waving his arms to keep her from starting.

"Potter and Malfoy sitting in a tree..."

Draco glared.

"If you ask me nicely, I could be persuaded to tell you where he is."

"I don't care where he is, that's not why I am here." Draco protest was weak, she could tell by the look in his eye that he was desperate to know.

"Pity. Because as you know, all of the portraits can talk to one another and locating him would be easy for me." She twirled a lock of hair through her chubby fingers as she watched him squirm.

Draco paced, pausing to glower at the maddening picture. "Very well. Where is he?" After a beat, he added. "Please."

"One moment." She vanished from her frame. She returned grinning. "You'd never find him on your own. So... you've said the magic word... but now I want... a kiss."

Giving her a withering look, Draco huffed. "Pfft. I'm not kissing a portrait."

"Not even on the cheek?"

"You don't have a cheek," he squawked. "You're a _painting_."

"Portraits need love. You would deny an old woman a moment of joy?" She turned her head and tilted her cheek. 

"Merlin! Fine." Draco stepped up to the picture and pressed his lips her canvas cheek. 

Blushing and tittering, she finally managed, "He was on the fourth floor. He's on his way back."

Narrowing his eyes at her, he folded his arms and looked expectantly at the stairs. He just wanted to make sure Harry was undamaged and instead a flirty painting sexually harassed him. When Harry alighted the last of the stairs, Draco took measure of him and though he looked tired, he appeared to be fine. 

"All right then, Potter?" He asked, trying to sound casual, but he was obviously concerned.


	17. Deja Vu All Over Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by cocohufflepuffs

_I've got to find another way into the Tower. They’ll start forming queues soon._

Harry gaped at yet another annoyed Slytherin waiting for his return to Gryffindor Tower. He pondered how to handle being faced with a Draco Malfoy that looked anything but scared of him at the moment. The blond had said they weren't to see each other without chaperones. Since it was past curfew, it was possible he was just fulfilling his prefect duties. The problem, however, was that even during the height of their rivalry, Draco had never gone so far as to loiter outside his dorm just to taunt him. Again, the fear of Draco calling off the courtship arose, threatening to drown the fragile hope that'd been sparked by all this.

"All right then, Potter?"

Harry froze. So Draco did know about the altercation with Pansy. And yet he was asking if _Harry_ was ok. It took a second to find his voice.

"Uh, yeah, Pansy and I... talked. Lovely conversation, truly, but she said something that, well, I hope isn't true." He paused to take a deep breath. "Do I, err, scare you, Draco? Because this isn't a trick, trap, or prank. I know you don't have reason to believe me after last year, but would it help if I admitted that I had my head soundly shoved up my arse then? I've managed to pull free since for the most part." Harry gave the Slytherin a contrite little smirk. Draco returned it with a withering look.

"You still have your head up your arse, Potter, and I'll be knocked over with a feather on the day you don't have your head up your arse. But no, you don't scare me. Your rants are more an assault on logic than actually frightening."

The smirk on Harry's face grew, despite being insulted. This sounded more like the Slytherin he knew and... liked strongly. God, he was such a masochist but then, Draco was the perfect sadist. They might never achieve True Love, but Karmic Irony suited them nicely. Draco's bravado plowed ahead in full Malfoy glory.

"A few little bursts of random magic don't scare me. You're a Gryffindor and hardly capable of tricks, traps or pranks of this elaborate nature. Does this answer your question? Do I _sound_ afraid to you? I'll duel you right now, Potter. Is that what you want?"

Dueling Harry Potter had to be some collective Slytherin wet dream. Ironically, it wouldn't take much to find out.

"No, that's not why I asked. I needed to know that you were doing this because you wanted it. I don't want you to feel coerced. My goal isn't to duel or frighten you, Draco. It’s to please you."

Harry let his words hang in the air a moment before he allowed the lightening in his heart to take over. After a day full of harassments, embarrassments and doubts, it was good to know it hadn’t been for nothing. A bigger grin began to play on his lips as he slowly approached the blond. "I'm glad to hear you don't scare easily. I'll just take Pansy's comments as the rubbish I suspected them to be... unless you really ARE still dating her." The question was implied in jest, yet Harry couldn’t quite dispel a tiny niggle.

"Don't be daft, Potter. I wouldn't accept a bid of courtship if I were dating someone. That would be against the rules," Draco smirked. "I wouldn't count on Parkinson for much insight. A bit delusional, that one is." The blond paused a little awkwardly, his pale brows knitting in a charmingly disconcerted fashion before concluding with, "Well... goodnight."

Harry kept his smile steady. "Right, what was I thinking? Well, thank you for answering truthfully. Goodnight, Draco." He placed a hand on one of Draco's shoulders and leaned in to kiss his cheek. It was a brief, chaste peck, but it felt wonderful. That was probably against the rules too, but Harry couldn’t help himself. Draco wasn’t scared of him. In fact, he cared enough to make sure that Harry was all right. It was incredibly heartening.

Before the astonished Slytherin could scold him, Harry retreated behind The Fat Lady’s portrait with a spring in his step. The joyful momentum carried him through the common room to his room, keeping him blissfully ignorant of whatever looks followed him. He dressed for bed quickly and didn’t bother with his potions. He knew he’d have another peaceful night with dreams of his own.

 

When breakfast appeared the next morning, Harry already knew the rising murmurs were less about the omelettes everyone else got and more about the box of fine chocolates, afixed with a bouquet of tiny sunflowers and flowering French Willow branches, that Draco Malfoy got.


	18. When Harry Met Draco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crabbe and Goyle get in the spirit, and another present arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by charlotteschaos

Draco couldn't stop touching his cheek where Harry kissed him. It was strange how much a simple brush of lips had affected him. He'd staggered away in a daze, pushing his shaking hands in his pockets as he ambled down the steps and back to Slytherin. He replayed the soft warmth of skin against skin; the way Harry's lips had parted, leaving a moist spot that chilled in the air of the castle. Those brilliant green eyes, shaggy black hair, lightning bolt scar, and of course the way Harry himself made Draco's heart race. 

But eventually Draco did manage to fall asleep to dream of that kiss, only to be awoken by two large elephants ungracefully bounding around in the room slapping each other's arses. "I really wish I had not explained gay sex to them," Nott stated.

Draco's eyes widened. The implications of _that_ statement were too horrible to contemplate before tea. He flew out of bed and into the showers to derail that train of thought. 

The water perked him up and his mind went back to Harry. No, he was not going to think about Harry while he was naked. Ever. Finishing his shower and dressing quickly, he brushed past the bears who were _still_ flirting and generally acting creepy. "I'm going to breakfast."

"Sir, what about us?" Goyle asked, quickly grabbing his clothing. 

"I didn't want to _interrupt_." Draco pocketed his wand and headed for the door. 

"Sir, isn't that what you want us to do? That's what you're doing with Potter, right?" Crabbe asked. 

Ignoring Zabini and Nott's laughter at his creeping blush, Draco said, "No. I am not. I'd rather you didn't either. If I'd had breakfast, I'd have spewed it by now at the mere thought of you two... touching." He felt a pang of guilt for their deflated looks. Jaw set, he glared at the ceiling. "Hurry up."

Crabbe and Goyle traded smiles and ran to the showers.

\--

At the table, Draco was startled enough to see the newest floral installment sent by Harry appear along with his breakfast. His brows furrowed at the message that the flowering willow and dwarf sunflowers were sending. He understood the adoration expressed in sunflowers, but the willow signified bravery. It had to be a sentence message, but "I admire your bravery" coming from a Gryffindor seemed... odd. 

"What is that?" spat Pansy as she took a spot across from him. Draco looked up at her and then past her to Harry, who seemed to have a court of his own to settle down. 

"I'm not a professional Herbologist, but I would guess that these are flowers. And..." he opened the package beneath it, "a present." Unwrapping the gold and black box, Draco gasped. Valrhona chocolates! Specifically, _Muggle_ chocolates that Draco had a hard time obtaining. The high cocoa content was what stuck with Draco from the first time he happened upon a bar that he'd seized from a Hufflepuff. 

"Muggle chocolates? How gauche, Draco. Of course a half-blood would be impressed by _Muggle candies_." Pansy rolled her eyes and yanked one of the blossoms off of the willow. "And what is this? Bravery? You? Surely he jests. We _all know_ that you're only putting up with this because he's _barking mad_. You said he was barking yourself!"

"For the love of Merlin, Parkinson, shut your maw." He snatched the blossom back, although he had no idea what to do with it now. He threw it in the box and then picked up one of the pieces he recognized to be Gunaja, a bitter dark chocolate with beans from South America. Eyeing Pansy, he slid it into his mouth and let his pale eyelashes flutter closed. "Mmm.... oooh... so... mmmm... so gooooood," he moaned out as if in the throes of orgasm. His head fell back as he cried out louder, his hands flailing out in a theatrical demonstration of bliss. His moans of pleasure rang out so stridently, that the table got quiet, then most of Ravenclaw shut down, and then Hufflepuff. The Great Hall echoed with Draco's oblivious cries of ecstasy. Pansy glared at Draco so hard, it was shocking that he didn't combust.


	19. Gay Boys Will Be Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts, and reactions, from the Gryffindors about what's been going on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by Cocohufflepuffs

"You _admire his courage_?" Hermione asked incredulously as several heads from Gryffindor turned back to their breakfast. This was becoming a routine.

Before Harry could respond, however, Seamus chimed in. "With the looks from Parkinson, I would too. Scary, that one." Harry would kiss the man, if he didn't know he'd enjoy it too much.

Hermione gave a disturbingly Slytherin snort. "What's he have to fear from his girlfriend?"

"Ex-girlfriend," Harry reminded softly.

"Which makes her even MORE dangerous. Harry, what's the point of this? Why Malfoy? Why now? If this has to do with-"

"Just leave it alone, Hermione. This is between Harry and Malfoy."

Silence fell over the group as everyone gaped at Neville, red but glowering steadily. "Let Harry do what he wants for once; he's earned the right. Some people never get opportunities like this. I trust his judgment.”

"Well... what's YOUR part in this then, Neville? I can't imagine you've forgotten how Malfoy's mistreated you. How he STILL does. Why are you so keen to help?"

Harry quickly intervened before Neville was forced to answer. "I asked for his help. I don't have many pureblood, male friends." Ron looked up and he quickly amended, "Who come from the same social niche as Draco. He's one of the few friends that would help, Hermione."

Hermione averted her gaze as Ron unwittingly asked, "Have you given more thought to a chaperon?"

He shook his head, sighing, "It should be someone with custodial interest in the chaperonee, preferably someone older. The only other people that fit the bill are Remus and your mum. Lupin's too busy with... work; I wouldn't feel right bothering him with this. I... feel weird about coming out to your mum just yet."

To Harry's immense relief, and Hermione’s shock, Ron nodded in understanding. "Part of your problem is who they'd be pitted against. I wouldn't fancy going toe to toe with Snape."

"Snape? Bloody hell, good luck!" Seamus grimaced, then sniggered. "McGonagall'd make a good chaperone. Canna think of anyone who'd put me off snoggin' faster."

There were cringes all around the table.

"No, I want someone who WON'T ruin the mood, but can still be responsible and face Snape."

"You thought that person would be me?" Hermione asked, this time gobsmacked. At Harry's nod, another frown settled on her face. "Oh, Harry... I-I can't, not in good conscience. If I did it, it'd be as if I was endorsing this, and _I'm not_. I think this is a bad idea. You'll only end up getting hurt. Or worse! Need I remind you whom Malfoy's father is? What his family's political views are? What he _thinks_ of people like you and me? He may have quieted down after the... courtyard incident... but that doesn't make him tamed."

Silence fell again. The first voice to break it bore a lilting accent. "Well, I do. Endorse it, that is. For what it's worth. Canna say I've much love for the little maggot, but Death Eater he's not. He'd left already if he were. Parkinson's more menancing. Feck your shite up, she would. Malfoy's likely to nibble your ankle or something like it." Seamus met Hermione's look with playful challenge.

"Seamus, I really don't-"

"You _have to go_ for it, Harry," Neville almost pleaded. He stared at him in earnestness until Harry had to look away.

"You can't ju-"

"I think you should too." This time Hermione paused, doing an admirable impression of a startled Pekingese as she stared at Ron. Defensively, he stammered, "I haven't joined the Draco Malfoy Fangirl Cult! I just think that, well, Harry... rather has his mind set on this. There's no dissuading him now. If he's going to do something stupid, wouldn't you rather be there before it happens, 'Mione? Besides, Malfoy's been almost human since last year. _Almost_ ," he finished, as if he couldn't quite reconcille himself with complimenting a Slytherin.

"Oh honestly Ron, do you believe-"

Another sound arose, however, that silenced her more effectively. In fact, it silenced the entire Hall better than any Silencio. It was... Was that...?

_Oh bloody hell!_

Pumpkin juice spurted out of nearly every oriface in Harry's head. Had he actually been breathing, he probably would have drowned. But, he was scarcely even coughing. The noise would have competed with... _that_. He craned his head for the best view possible, not actually aware that he was already standing. He KNEW whose voice that was, but he had to see it. Harry needed to know if the Draco in the dream world was anything like the Draco in reality. He was only vaguely aware of Hermione speaking again.

"Harry? Seamus! **RON!** Oh, for Heaven's sake... Forget about Malfoy being a Death Eater! He clearly has more effective means of doing you lot in."


	20. Amortentia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco finds a way to use others to his advantage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by Charlotteschaos

Draco licked his lips after observing Harry's intense stare from across the room. Tasting the chocolate, he tried to decide what to say to break the incredible silence. 

"Eep!" was what he ended up with as Snape grabbed his elbow and yanked him to his feet. 

_Stupid soundless walking Snape._

"Come with me, Mr Malfoy."

As if he had much of a choice if he wanted to keep his arm attached. Draco stood and started to shove the box into Goyle's meaty hand; however the greedy look on his face made him reconsider. He pulled the box closer to his chest and looked up at Snape, whose glare at the box told him he wouldn't have the chocolate long that way either. 

Nott snatched the box from him and gave him a quick nod that he'd keep it safe. That would cost him, he wagered. Nott was neither friend, nor enemy and wouldn't help out of the goodness of his heart. 

\--

After a long, boring lecture from Snape that Draco was already ignoring as it was given, the last thing that he wanted was to have to tangle with Nott. It was just the hand he was dealt that he would have to.

Draco's heart sank as he entered his room. No Crabbe or Goyle to protect him. Even Zabini had ditched. Obviously whatever this was, it was going to be _bad_. The idea that Harry thought he was a queer flitted through his mind and his stomach knotted up with dread.

Nott sat on Draco's bed with the chocolates on his lap. He was eating one. Draco could smell it. He wanted to whine. No, wait, whining was what girlymen did. He wanted to throw punches. That's it. Punches.

"This really is good, Malfoy. Maybe I should keep it for myself."

"Maybe you should remember who is acing potions before ingesting too much."

"These came from Potter. The only potion on these would be a _love potion_."

"That's even worse," said Draco, crossing to sit on the edge of his bed. If he could just get close enough, he could snatch them. "Even if he meant for it to work he'd've bunged it up. Or, y'know, he didn't, in which case you'll be in love with Potter."

Nott was savvy to that and pointed his wand at Draco, clucking softly. "They're not poisoned. I checked. You forget my brilliance with charms and detection spells. I haven't lived with you for six years without learning them."

Draco was pretty sure that Nott didn't check _everything_ he ate, and if this kept up, he was going to need to. Not to mention that if Potter knew, Nott would have a very angry Gryffindor up his arse. Up his arse. Draco paled. "Fair enough. What do you want?"

"I want you to get Pansy to like me."

"What?" Aside from the fact that it was in his best interest to find Pansy someone else to fixate on, he wasn't sure how to do it. How would anyone go from obsessing over him to Nott? 

"You don't want her anyway, you have Potter!"

Taking advantage of Nott's outrage, Draco snatched his sweets back. "I don't have him. I'm not sure I want him yet. The courting isn't over." Nott looked ready to fit. "But I know I don't want Parkinson. I'll... think of something."

Nott eyed the chocolates. "You took my leverage."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You don't need it. Believe me." Love potions were forbidden at Hogwarts, but then again, the champion rule-breaker was courting him. Somehow, this would work. 

Later that night, he drafted a note.

_Potter,_

_I am in need of frozen Ashwinder eggs and a private place to brew a special potion. You are resourceful; I know you can find these things. There will be a reward._

_Malfoy_

Watching his owl soar towards Gryffindor from the owlry, wondered if Harry knew that was the chief ingredient in Amortentia. If he did, he imagined that Harry would ask for an explanation. The idea of not giving him one was quite amusing. Let Harry stew on why Draco would be creating a love potion. It promised to be a good show.


	21. All's Fair In Love And Courtship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry discovers there's more to courtship than flowers and candy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by Cocohufflepuffs

The evening had been full of thoughts of flowers, gifts and certain displays of approval. Very little else had managed to penetrate Harry's thoughts, certainly not homework or Hermione. This hadn’t stopped her from glaring at him purposefully all evening, or badgering Ron, Neville and him about their assignments. She hadn’t brought up the issue of the courtship again, however, until Draco’s owl showed up with a letter. Hermione started in before Harry even got it opened.

“I’ve been wondering when this would start,” she said in her Knowing Voice.

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry and Neville. “What, you’ve worked up a schedule for the owls too?”

“No, Ron, I’m referring to the favours.” The smirks and sniggers around the study table abruptly ended.

“Favours?” Harry asked as he noticed an uncomfortable look of realisation dawn on Neville’s face.

“Yes, Harry, _favours_. Or was that something Neville forgot to mention about courting? As a suitor, you’re expected to do more than send pretty flowers and candies. In order to win your intended’s approval, you must curry favour with... him. In essence, a suitor is at the mercy of the intended’s whim, if he's seriously committed. And given Malfoy’s whims... Do you see why I object so strongly, Harry? This places you right where he wants you, doing his bidding on anything that captures his fancy, especially as this is a Wizarding courtship.” She paused, then a horrified look came across her face. “Oh, Harry, PLEASE tell me you haven’t made any declarations, vows or given your word to him yet.”

“Errr, no?” Harry worriedly backtracked through his memories, trying to find an instance where he’d declared, vowed or promised anything. He knew he had to formally declare his intent to court Draco, which he’d done and it’d been accepted with his daffodil. He’d also promised that he was sincere about courting, and wasn’t playing some sort of twisted game. That couldn’t get him into trouble... could it? “Did you know about this, Neville?”

“Um, yes, I did, I guess. I mean, I knew wizards had to earn approval, but, I hadn’t thought about Malfoy taking advantage of it. S-sorry, Harry!”

Harry nodded quietly while Ron swore up a blue streak. “Bloody hell, Neville! Of COURSE Malfoy’d take advantage! He’s a _Slytherin_. Cor, he could have Harry dancing naked on the Head Table like a pissed up chicken by the end of the week!”

“He couldn’t do that, really... right?” Suddenly, it felt like Harry’s stomach had fallen into his shoes.

“It’s possible. Wizarding courtship can be like a low level Binding spell. Ultimately, it comes down to you, Harry. What are you willing to do to gain Malfoy’s favour?"

Harry nodded again and excused himself to read Draco’s letter upstairs, Hermione’s question echoing in his mind. Just what _would_ he do for Draco? The answer came impulsively.

Anything.

Harry knew this wasn’t necessarily a good answer. His dreams may have provided him with a rare perspective on Draco, but there wasn’t any guarantee that they were accurate. He'd been mindful of this throughout the process. As he thought about it, however, he realised he wasn't upset about the omission because it really wasn't news. He'd told Pansy he had very little influence over how Draco ran this courtship. Harry had already decided he wanted Draco enough to fight the odds. At least in this battle he could choose his participation.

Certain now of his answer to Hermione's question, Harry in turn answered Draco.

_Draco,_

_You don't ask much, do you? Are you making a love potion? What reward?_

_Harry_


	22. Puffer Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's nearly impossible to get a free moment to read one's correspondence these days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by Charlotteschaos

Draco hadn't received the response from Harry until dinner. He took the scroll from Harry's signature owl, trying to ignore the looks it earned him from Theo and Pansy. He furrowed his brows at Theo, in particular. It had only been one day, and not even a whole day. While he could truly believe that Theo needed some "attention," distracting a girl of taste from himself to take the reedy boy that obviously no one wanted was going to take His Greatness a couple of days. 

Pansy reached for the scroll. Draco shoved it into his robe with one hand and slapped her grabby hand with the other. "Hands off my private correspondence."

He was dying to see what the note said, and he could catch Harry's curious glances at him, but this simply wasn't safe territory to read it. Who knew what Harry would ask him? The boy was unpredictable. 

Draco had to slap Pansy's hand away no less than three more times during dinner, the last time he held a golden fork threateningly at her manicure.

"You're lucky Goyle hasn't mistaken your paw for a turkey leg. Reaching across him like that while he's feeding is dangerous" Draco stood after setting his utensils on the diagonal, as he was taught to do. Because of the gruel served at Hogwarts, the little things were important to maintain civility. 

As he headed out of the Great Hall, he heard the click of Pansy's heels shadowing his steps. Taking a quick detour into the nearest boy's loo, Draco tried not to wonder what his father would think of this courtship. Not one to waste anything, he knew that his father would tell him to use it to his every advantage, which Draco would, if he had to. 

Myrtle splashed around, making Draco wince. Fuck, why did he have to choose _this_ loo? Stupid Pansy. 

"Oooh, what do you have there, Draco? Is that a nooote?" she asked, hovering in front of him. She tried to peek at it as he unfolded it.

"No, it's a puffer fish." He read over the note as he dropped his bag by the sinks. 

"What does it say?" Myrtle floated over to where he was, attempting to see it again.

"Help, I'm a fish out of water and an annoying dead hag is bothering me!" Draco read the note a couple of times. Why couldn't fucking Harry just take orders like any proper suitor? 

_Potter,_

_What I want them for is none of your business. You realize that as you are courting me, I could ask these things of you and not provide explanation, nor reward. Because of your cheek, I'm going to demand that you bring me more chocolate. I'm afraid that Nott got a hold of a couple of bars before I could stop him. However, should you bring me two replacement bars and the Ashwinder eggs as I demand, that I shall allow you to watch me eat them in private. I recall that you rather enjoyed my gratification at the perfect chocolate in the Great Hall. This would be a performance for you and you alone. No chaperones. Respond before I regain my senses._

_Malfoy_

"You're very rude. You used to be so _sensitive_. Remember when you'd come in here and cry?" Myrtle floated around him. "Scared of that Potter boy, weren't you? Now he gives you a flower and you're _so rude_."

"Just what I need, another jealous bint," Draco muttered as he brushed past Pansy as he left to loo and headed to the Owlry to send his missive.


	23. For Love, Friendship, and Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends cheer you on when you're courting your former rival. Real friends help you catch snakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By Cocohufflepuffs

"Tell me again why we're doing this?"

"For True Love in the face of adversity."

"... Riiight," Ron eyed Neville sceptically. "Harry, tell me again why we're doing this?"

"Draco promised some alone time. With chocolate."

"The truly _worthy_ cause," Seamus smirked as he slipped on his Herbology gloves.

The way Draco ate chocolate, Harry had to agree.

"You're all certifiable, you know that?" Dean sighed, placing an upturned rubbish bin over his head.

"Yet you're still here. By the way, that's a good look for you, mate."

"I don't want my things going up in flames."

Ron sighed, tucking the last of his bedding up under his mattress. "Tell me _again_ why we're doing this? I keep forgetting."

Everyone smirked while getting into position around the dorm. Even Harry had to smile. This was a risky plan. So much rode on his ability to control the ashwinder once it came out of the fire, then on Dean’s ability to freeze the eggs properly. If Harry _couldn't_ control the snake, there was the worry of finding its clutch in time. It was what Draco would call a foolishly Gryffindor plan. Still, they had agreed to help. Harry felt he owed them _all_ chocolate.

"Okay Neville, light the lantern."

\----

"Neville, you're _sure_ that's a magical fire?"

"YES."

Being this was the fourth time in the last 45 minutes that Ron had asked, Harry didn't blame the normally mousy boy for snapping. He stretched carefully, still mindful of the lantern in the middle of their room. "The book said the fire had to be left unattended for a while."

"Book?" Dean glanced up, readjusting the bin _still_ on his head. "I take it Hermione doesn't know about this."

"Hell no."

All five of them smirked, then returned to staring at the flame.

"Anyone wanna play Exploding Snap?"

Several of them groaned next.

 

\----

 

**KABOOM!**

Neville jumped so high, it was obvious he'd fallen asleep again. After nearly two hours now, even Seamus was annoyed with the game. Harry rubbed his eyes, convinced there'd be a permanent imprint of the lantern on his retinas. That might complicate things when it came time to watch Draco eat.

"Relax, that one wasn't an ‘exploding snake' either. Blimey, I’m _bored_. What now?"

"... We could tell ghost stories."

" _Ghost stories?_ "

"Well... the fire, you see."

"That's so gay, Dean. Errr... sorry, Harry!"

Glaring at Ron, Harry volunteered to go first.

 

\---

 

Fifteen minutes later, he sighed in exasperation. "Ron, I'm sorry, okay?"

"Bloody hell it's not okay! You made me relive the spiders, Harry! I'm never talking to you again."

"Have to admit, it was a brilliant story." Ron hit Seamus so hard with his pillow they both fell over.

It was going to be a long third hour.

 

\--- 

 

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Ron asked muzzily as he rolled over on his bed. Neville was running interference outside. Dean had been quietly drawing with Seamus out cold and nuzzling the small of his back. Harry had been staring at the flame in an almost Zen fashion. He jumped and blinked owlishly at the first noise he’d heard in quite a while.

"What gave it away? The hours of relentless sitting?"

"Har-har. I have to ask then-- _why_ Malfoy? When did this happen?"

Harry heard the scratching of Dean's pencil pause briefly.

"Well... it's always been Draco, in some form. Usually as an enemy. I don't know when he became something else. I guess when I started noticing his absence after the... courtyard incident. Remember how I thought he was up to something again?"

"Yeah, you were rather obsessed with him then. 'What's Malfoy doing now?' 'I bet Malfoy's behind this!'"

Harry smirked, figuring he was _still_ obsessed.

"It became clear he had other things on his mind." Harry didn't want to break Draco's unwitting confidence about the fall out from his father's imprisonment. After all, he shouldn't have known either. "After... observing him a while, I started seeing him differently. I guess it'd just become habitual hating him. I never questioned why."

Ron studied him as he did a chessboard. Harry was worried he'd question more about 'why'. Like many of his chess strategies, however, Ron surprised him by going straight for the 'how'.

"This has to do with your dreams, doesn't it?"

"... What do you know about my dreams?"

"Nothing really. You just mumble his name in your sleep a lot."

"Do I... say anything else?"

"Aside from some distressed grunting about _Him_ , no. Harry, why don't you take the Dreamless Sleep more often? It’s supposed to stop the nightmares."

"I don't want to become too dependent on it." It was _mostly_ true. He felt bad for shutting out his friends again, but it was for their own good. And his.

_It'sssss ssssso coooold in heeeerrrreeeee....._

"Then climb into your own bed for once, Seamus."

"Huh, Harry? Seamus didn't say anything."

They stared at one another then at Dean, who looked up in shock. Seamus was still curled up next to him.

All hell broke loose.

"Seamus, wake up!"

"GAH! Not the wand I wanna wake up to, Dean!"

"Bloody hell, where's Neville?"

A squeak answered that question.

"Stay by the door! Dean, not yet! Harry, start blabbing!"

What _do_ you say to a snake that's just crawled out of a fire? _"Uh, hi.... How are you?_ " Harry hadn't thought it possible for ashwinders to look incredulous. He tried other things.

"I love watching a man control his snake," Seamus snorted, racing to get his gloves back on.

" _How_ is it I manage to shower with you around?"

"Maybe you should stop wanking in the shower then, Ron."

Harry slipped out of Parseltongue long enough to warn, "Guys, you’re _seriously_ damaging my concentration."

"Shower wanks do it for you then, Harry?"

He lost the ashwinder. It dived between Seamus' legs and under his bed. Harry couldn't help the brief satisfaction at hearing Seamus’ high-pitched shriek when Dean raised his wand again. "NOT YET DEAN!"

Pandemonium ensued as everyone rushed at Seamus and the bed. It was amazing no one got frostbite or hit the ashwinder in the panicking volleys. Harry was certain it’d dropped its eggs purely out of fright. As they rested afterwards, faces aglow with something that’d been missing since the War started, Harry realised he'd won more than just Draco's favour.

He'd won back the support of his friends.

"If Malfoy doesn’t come through after this, I’ll hex him myself," Neville panted.

Harry had such wonderful friends.

 

\---

 

_Draco,_

_I have your eggs, your hideout and your chocolate._

_Name the time._

_Harry_


	24. Toxic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being guarded like a child is not as fun as it looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by charlotteschaos

Receiving dour looks from Harry's dorm mates all day wasn't helping much. He realized it had been a couple of days since Harry had sent his note that all was ready on his end with the Ashwinder eggs, but Snape had amped up his scrutiny of Draco's actions out of _concern_ for him. 

Aided by Pansy, who had enlisted the help of Theo, Draco was having a hard time even getting away to owl Harry the reason for his delay. It seemed even his eagle owl Bran didn't much care for his choice of suitors, although it would be indiscreet at this point to use his own owl for communication.

He'd asked Millicent for help, but she'd denied him on principle that he was conniving to use a love potion on Pansy. 

"Honestly, Bullstrode, I don't know of any other way to get her off my back. She's like a barnacle, and not just because she smells like sea life!"

Millicent was unimpressed and perked a brow. "Flattering as that is, I refuse to be party to mind control, particularly of Pansy."

The idea had always been to use the Ashwinder eggs to create a love potion for Theo to use on Pansy, but as he saw her enlisting his help to keep an eye on Draco as a sign that she liked him for him, he refused to help Draco get out.

"I don't need it now, Malfoy. She likes me. She trusts me!" Theo insisted.

"She's using you to spy on _me_ , you lack wit! Good God man, get a grip on reality! You're assisting her in her infatuation with me! This is not helping you at all. I am going to help you!" said Draco.

Blaise laughed at the whole ordeal, but as he felt it impolitic to go against Snape without any particular gain for himself, he was of no help, either. 

Crabbengoyle were too busy exploring each other's arseholes to be of any help to anyone. And their grunting kept Draco up at night until he finally silenced them-- a move that pleased all of Slytherin and made him a hero for that day. Not that it helped his situation.

Finally, Draco had managed to break away after lunch, insisting that he was going to the library. Note clutched in his fist, he fled towards the Owlery, hoping to at least get his excuse to Harry, when he literally bumped into Seamus.

"Out of my way," Draco huffed, shoving him to the side.

"I like a pushy bloke. Am I to take it this means you're the top?" asked Seamus, smirking as he caught his footing.

There was no time to stop and be irritated, so Draco simply shot Seamus a nasty look to cover his paling and spat, "Of course I'd be...." Draco halted, not having thought that far into this and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Y'know, Malfoy, if you're really not that into Harry, I'd take him off your hands for you," said Seamus jovially.

Draco bristled, his shoulders tensed as he glared at Seamus. "Excuse me?"

"Whoa there." Seamus took a step back when Draco's posture straightened, fancying Draco a hedgehog with his quills out. "I was just taking the mickey. But seriously, why haven't you gotten back to him?"

"It's complicated."

"I have time."

Draco looked up and down the empty corridor. "Snape has decided to keep a better eye on me. My roommates are of no help."

"Why don't you... hex them? Or threaten them? Aren't you the big Slytherin Prince?"

Sighing, Draco shook his head. Gryffindors were brave, but not intuitive. "I did have a reign of terror on Slytherin, but since my father's been incarcerated, many are significantly less afraid. As for the dorm mates... well, it's imprudent to bewitch those with whom you share a dorm. I must, after all, sleep somewhere." 

Seamus nodded his understanding. "What about a sleeping potion?"

"Only as a last resort. If any of them detects it... well, it could lead to many problems, including expulsion, which wouldn't bode well for Potter's courting, now would it?" Looking down at the scroll crushed in his fist, Draco decided to bestow owl duties to Seamus.

Draco shoved the parchment into Seamus's hand and said, "See that this gets to Potter."

Once the note had been passed and pocketed, Pansy sped around the corner, flushed and breathless. "There you are!" she exclaimed, grabbing Draco's arm. "We lost you!"

Shooting Seamus a look that said _see what I mean?_ Draco yanked his arm away and huffed, "I am not a lost child. What did you need?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes at Seamus, then decided against whatever she was going to say and concentrated on Draco. "Snape was looking for you." A tormenting smirk played over her lips. 

"Of course." Draco rolled his eyes and headed back towards Slytherin. That note had better be delivered, or Seamus would be eating his own balls.

_P,_

_I am unavoidably detained. Name a time and place to meet you and I will do my best to be there. In the meantime, would you happen to know anyone who might use the eggs to create a love potion? It is for use on Pansy. So if it ends up toxic, that is a sacrifice I am willing to make. It would aid me greatly to have her interests elsewhere._

_Sincerely,  
M_


	25. Tipitiwitchet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry realizes that enough is enough. He needs more help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by cocohufflepuffs

Harry read the note again. Then again. Once again. He examined the scrawl carefully, as if it would somehow change the words to read, _Thank you for the Ashwinder eggs, Harry, I will be servicing you in whatever way that you fancy promptly._

Then he blushed at how cheeky that thought was-- especially since he was standing there with a raging boner in front of Seamus who wasn't missing _that_ at all. In fact, he was staring at it.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" asked Harry as he pocketed the scroll.

"Good note? Malfoy seemed rather _edgy_ when I saw him. Not as _edgy_ as you," said Seamus, eyeing Harry pointedly just under his belt.

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd chosen that precise moment to crack. Maybe it was the sexual harassment, or maybe it was because on some level, he was tempted to just let Seamus have at it so he could at least know what it was like. Everything just suddenly seemed so hopeless.

At Harry's look, Seamus took a step back and started muttering apologies.

Harry held up a hand and shook his head, exhaling slowly. "No. I mean. Yeah, stop. But. It's just. I mean." He carded his hand through his hair and rubbed his palm against his scar for good measure. "Snape's got Malfoy on lockdown. Everyone in Slytherin is watching him."

"'S'what he said, yeah," said Seamus, looking sympathetic.

"Why is everything so hard for me?" He gave Seamus a warning look to pipe down before he went there. "It was just so unlikely that Malfoy would accept that flower, but I gave it to him anyway. And for whatever reason, he took it. Maybe it's just that he likes the chocolates or the attention, but... I like to think that he likes me. But the way things are... I just... I can't even get two seconds with him."

"Mate, you _did_ make it pretty public," said Seamus.

"Not helping."

"Sorry."

"I had to make it public. I had to do it right so he'd know I was serious. So that he'd know that I noticed him and that it was _him_ I was after... with all of his fussy traditions and throwback sort of thinking. I wanted to do it right, to let him know I was sincere," said Harry.

They were in their room, and while not just anyone could walk in, Harry was feeling excessively silly for pouring out his heart to Seamus Finnigan of all people. He leaned against his bedpost, pressing his temple to it.

Seamus looked at a loss. It was only then that he heard a shuffle from the corner of the room and when Harry looked up, he saw Neville was there. He had that determined look in his eye that he often did when he was about to really make a good hex work. Harry remembered it well from fifth year.

He cleared his throat and said, "In that case, Harry, I... I have an idea."

\--

_Professor Severus Snape,_

_As I know that you are well aware, one Harry Potter is attempting to court a young man for whom you have been named chaperone. It is with great pleasure that I can announce myself Harry Potter's duenna._

_As we have a working relationship, I do believe that this negotiation for time should go smoothly. Your Chinese Chomping Cabbage is now prepared to harvest and I shall be bringing it to you in the morning. At such time we shall discuss the upcoming Hogsmeade Weekend and the parts we shall play in the boys' day._

_Ah, Severus. Young love. I remember when Mr Sprout and I met at a convention in Spain. He admired my tipitiwitchet and I was at once besotted with his cockscomb. Oh, I have such lovely memories of carefree romance._

_I should think that Mr Potter would treat Mr Malfoy with every ounce of care that he did in harvesting the Mandrakes. I am quite certain that the precious flower of manhood that Mr Malfoy is couldn't help but flourish under Mr Potter's tender care._

_I will see to it that he has that opportunity._

_Sincerely,_

_Pomona Sprout_


	26. The Bad Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape really needs to talk to Draco about this letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by charlotteschaos

"Mr Malfoy," spoke Snape.

It was never a good sign when Snape addressed him with a title of courtesy as if he were some random Hogwarts student; as if he hadn't been in Draco's home, eaten meals with him, or listened to Draco's ranting. It was an address that Draco loathed in that way that Weasley family members loathed their middle names-- only Snape was far more insidious and vicious than Molly Weasley could ever dream of being.

Draco shuddered.

"Perhaps you can enlighten me as to why it is my eyes have been _violated_ by implications of plant pornography from the likes of Pomona Sprout," said Snape. He remained standing behind his desk, staring down his aquiline nose at Draco who shifted in the stiff chair on the other side.

"I... don't know, sir?" Unfortunately for Draco, this was the truth. No one had bothered to make mention of Harry's chaperone to him, as things seemed to have happened rather quickly. "Perhaps she's taken a liking to you?"

Snape slammed his fist on the desk, the first clue for Draco that if this were the case, Draco should've alerted him to this sooner. "No, _Mr Malfoy_ , she has _not_ taken a liking to _me_ , but rather to your little _paramour Mr Potter_!"

Draco sat up, quite unsettled. "Then perhaps she should be sending notes to him?" He wondered why Sprout couldn't just stick with Longbottom. Why his Harry?

"Your sense of humor is not appreciated at this time," Snape snapped.

Throwing his arms in the air, Draco flopped back against the chair, utterly clueless as to what his sense of humor was, exactly.

"You really don't know?" asked Snape, leaning forward on his desk, looking like he would easily crawl over it to rip out Draco's throat with his bare teeth if he got the sense he was being toyed with.

Draco shook his head.

Snape passed him the note, sliding it tersely across the desk.

After reading, Draco said, "Ew."

"Indeed."

"Too much information!" said Draco, flailing.

"Precisely my point," Snape agreed.

"And Potter wasn't that careful with the Mandrakes, really," Draco observed.

Sparing Draco a sidelong glance, Snape said, "In any case, I have met with her... and..."

"And...?" Draco leaned forward in his chair.

Snape's smile was malignant and somehow, Draco had the feeling he was about to get exactly too much of what he wanted. "You've a date for Hogsmeade Weekend. At Madam Puddifoot's."

Draco gasped, his face turned bright red. A date? With Potter? In front of the entire school? At that cherub dump? He had to put a stop to this and right now!

Seeing that his announcement had its intended effect, Snape said, "You may go."

Pale and twitching, Draco jumped up to rush to his room. He and Harry needed to have a _talk_.

\--

_Potter,_

_The Room of Requirement. Midnight tonight. No excuses. I don't care if I have to poison my whole house._

_Malfoy_   
_p.s. Bring more of that chocolate._


	27. Chocolate, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Harry and Draco are in the same room at the same time.

The time was near. 

He wished he'd had more notice than he had. He didn't know what he'd've done with more time-- probably just wished that the night would come sooner. As it was, he'd brushed his teeth three times, tried making his hair behave with what Seamus called "product" several times and had changed his uniform twice. 

Neville carefully packed the Ashwinder eggs and chocolate in a hamper, while reassuring Harry that he looked good and that he'd do all right. This was the night he'd been waiting for. That Draco had said that he would possibly poison his whole house added an air of desperation, which Harry hoped worked in his favor. 

He mussed his hair, deciding that looked best, as Ron threw his Invisibility Cloak at him. 

"Oof!" Harry exclaimed when it hit him.

"You'll need that if you're going to meet your dream boy without getting caught," said Ron. 

Harry managed to catch the cloak before it dropped and grinned at Ron, taking the effort for approval. "Thanks, Ron."

"You were mumbling about him again last night in your sleep." 

"I--" Harry didn't know what to say to Ron about his dreams. He didn't want to talk about them. He shrugged and tried to smile. "I should go."

"Good luck, mate," said Ron. He slapped Harry's back in that overly masculine way boys do. 

"Yeah, good luck, Harry!" Neville said.

"Put it in him!" said Seamus, gesturing lewdly with his fist. 

"Bye," said Dean absently. He stared at Seamus in horror.

"Thanks guys," said Harry. "For everything. Really."

Harry waved with a little confusion and pulled on his cloak. Filled with hope, he was on his way.

\--

"What are these oh... the eggs," said Draco. He'd ferreted the rich chocolate out of the hamper and now sat before it, head tilted as he looked at the remaining contents. They were seated on a rich Persian carpet before the crackling fire. The light made Draco's pale face glow golden.

The Room of Requirement was decked out in manner in which Harry imagined Malfoy Manor would be. It was dark, like the Slytherin common room, and there were loads of shining brass and gold knickknacks. 

The way that Draco was looking at the basket made Harry paranoid. "Are they the wrong size?" 

He could've kicked himself for the lame question. 

Fortunately, Draco was distracted enough not to mock him. "I don't think so, the potions book didn't say. Frozen, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

Draco stared at them a moment longer and then turned his attention back to Harry. "Right. Well. That wasn't why I asked you here."

"But you said you'd..." Harry wondered if this meant that he wasn't going to see the chocolate eating tonight. He clung to the hope that it meant something better was going to happen. "So why did you ask me here?"

Draco looked down at the chocolate and then at the hamper, carefully keeping his attention away from Harry. "It's that... Sprout as your chaperone is... erm... Snape's rather... ticked."

The sputtering was adorable, but the fact that what he'd done had bothered Snape was almost better. Smiling now would be a bad idea, so Harry pressed his lips together to reduce the temptation. "He doesn't like Professor Sprout?"

Harry put his hand on Draco's. Draco started at the gesture, but allowed it. "Her note to him was vulgar," said Draco, his voice husky as he stared at their piled hands.

"Was it?" asked Harry. He could care less about Sprout or Snape now that he was touching Draco. He traced circles on the back of Draco's hand, smiling at Draco's shiver of pleasure and the way the blond hairs on his arm rose at each caress.

"Oh." Draco's eyes fluttered shut, his breath came out unsteadily through lavish, wet lips. "But it-- it was vulgar. Rather. And there's... a date. At Madam Puddifoot's."

Walking his fingers up Draco's arm, Harry scooted closer, feeling the warmth of stuttering breath on his cheek. This was way better than watching Draco eat chocolate. "A date?" Harry caressed the crook of Draco's arm, stroking it just hard enough not to tickle, but still lightly enough that it would feel good. At least, he hoped it would. "Just us?"

"On Hogsmeade weekend. In front of the school," said Draco. When he opened his eyes, realized how close Harry was. Draco's eyes widened and he swallowed hard, but didn't retreat. 

"I started courting you in front of the school. Are you embarrassed by me?" Harry leaned in closer and brushed his lips against Draco's bottom lip, amazed by its feather-lightness and warmth. His heart fluttered madly, his stomach tightened and he thought he might pass out.

It was over too soon.

"I don't know." Draco froze, then turned his head away. "This is inappropriate."

Harry knew it wasn't proper. He shouldn't be this close to Draco, but then, they shouldn't be meeting outside of their arranged dates, either. He couldn't bring himself to pull away and end the moment. Instead, he grabbed one of the bars of chocolate, freeing it from the gold packaging. The chocolate was so rich, that between the warmth of his fingers and the heat of the fire, it started to melt.

Breaking off a piece, he slid the corner under the dip of Draco's upper lip till he tilted his head up and sucked the sweet into his mouth, making sultry noises of ecstasy at the taste. 

Draco was practically purring as Harry fed him. He opened his eyes to gaze at Harry while he slowly sucked his fingers clean, tongue flicking over Harry's index finger and thumb.

"Oh. My." Harry was very aroused and sure that this _really_ wasn't proper. It took every ounce of self-control to pull his hand from Draco's mouth. He needed to get down to business before he flung himself at Draco and snogged him senseless. "So... Why did you want me to come here?"


End file.
